Book Name: Emerald: Good and EvilSeries: The Stones of PowerBook: FiveSeries should be read in order for maximum enjoyment.

Release Date: November 18, 2015Blurb:
Home. Family.

Those words often invoke a sense of love and comfort. But for the dark mage Morgorth, they mean hate and pain. As the seventh son of a seventh son, many believe Morgorth’s destiny is to become the Destroyer. His father embraced such a future and trained Morgorth through torture and fear to become his weapon. Morgorth managed to escape his father’s cruelty, but not the nightmares that still haunt him. For many years he’s lived with the stain of his father’s savagery, but now he must confront his nightmares head-on.

His father has found a stone of power.

Morgorth must return to his land of birth, to the memories he’s tried his entire life to suppress. Aishe is determined to help Morgorth defeat his inner demons, but he knows he might not be enough to save Morgorth from embracing his darkness. They know it will be a fight to the death and know Morgorth won’t be the same if he survives. With Aishe by his side, Morgorth hunts for his father, and finds answers to questions he never dared to ask—and must live with the truths they reveal.

Pages or Words: 78,000 words

Categories: Fantasy, Fiction, Romance

Excerpt:
I glanced at Aishe to see he had his bow, an arrow nocked, and quiver at his side. He was crouched, still looking ill, but his eyes were hard and flat. I grinned in pride. Nothing could keep my mate down. I let the wind die and the ship slowed, rocking violently, the water lapping hard at its sides. The tentacles caught up and tried to wrap around the ship once again. I didn’t risk fire, but I had another element that was aplenty around me: water. Just as I gathered focus for the next spell, a tentacle tried to slither onto the deck, heading toward me. Before I could react Aishe shot an arrow, puncturing the slimy flesh of the tentacle. Then he ran and leapt over it, and with his sword, sliced off the tip. The tentacle shot back into the water, and the monster bellowed in pain. Aishe spun around, nocking another arrow. He was now close to me, and I could see it was a struggle for him to remain focused. He was sweating profusely and deathly pale. I would have ordered him below deck if I thought he would listen.

More tentacles were now slithering around the ship and the crew did what they could, cutting at the appendages and shooting their own arrows. They gave me the time I needed. I ran across the deck and realized the monster’s tentacles seemed to be following me. I wasn’t surprised, since most creatures could sense magick and many predators were attracted to it. If a predator ate a mage, they sometimes gained the power of their food: you are what you eat. I could use that to my advantage.

I reached the other side of the ship and flung my hand down with another word, using the magick in the water—every element had magick, instilled there by the Mother—and used it to freeze the water. But not just on the surface, I made the ice sink below where the beast rested. I continued the spell, causing the tentacles to freeze. It wasn’t easy to freeze saltwater but as I was using the magick within the element, and not my own to control it, it was much easier. Once the tentacles stopped moving, I instantly swung around and used the wind again to get the ship to move. We shot across the water once more, and I happened to look back to see what the beast was doing. We hadn’t gone very far before the ice broke. I realized the beast was far bigger, and stronger, than I’d suspected. I watched, fascinated and terrified, as the beast surged completely to the surface. Its bulbous head and gaping mouth appeared, its tentacles writhing in rage. Those black, pitiless eyes focused on us, and then the monster dove back into the water. It sped toward us, creating a hump in the water.

I took a deep breath, reaching a decision. It wasn’t going to stop, not until it had eaten me and destroyed the ship. I stopped the wind.

“Everyone hold onto something!” I bellowed. I glanced at Aishe as he clung to the rail, his eyes huge and locked on me.

I stood in the middle of the ship again and closed my eyes. My magick flashed hot inside me, and I used it to once again grab hold of the water’s magick. I clenched my fists and let the foreign magick fill me, feeling the pressure of it, the fluidness of the water, the refreshing and cool sensation. Then I opened my eyes and quickly grabbed a crystal from one of my pouches. It was small but it would serve for the task I gave it. I clasped the crystal between both hands and unleashed the spell with a focused word inside my mind. The spell latched onto the crystal and just as the beast reached us, intent on smashing the ship to pieces, the water suddenly shot upward, like a reverse waterfall.

A large column of water lifted the ship out of harm’s way and the tentacles of the beast slashed at the column as it roared in frustration. I made sure the ship reached a good height before locking the spell into the crystal. Spells only lasted if there was enough energy, or rather, magick, to sustain them. With crystals, I could hold the spell longer by pumping a predetermined amount of magick into them, turning the spell into an enchantment. I used such techniques for Geheimnis. I frequently had to recharge the crystals but it meant I didn’t have to consciously think about the spells anymore. They were very nearly freestanding. I used the same concept here but of a shorter extent. What I had planned wouldn’t take very long.

I ran to Aishe and pushed the crystal into his hands. “Hold onto this. It will keep you all airborne.”

“What are you doing?” Aishe made to grab me, but I had already leapt onto the rail, struggling to keep my balance.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

“Morgorth—”

I took a deep breath before I dove off the rail. I locked my hands over my head and made sure my magick was bubbling right below the surface. The beast rose out of the water and opened its mouth. This was going to hurt.

Meet the author:
M.D. Grimm has wanted to write stories since second grade and nothing has changed since then. Thankfully, she has indulgent parents who let her dream, but also made sure she understood she'd need a steady job to pay the bills. After graduating from the University of Oregon and majoring in English, she embarked on her writing career and couldn't be happier. Working by day, writing by night, she enjoys journeying on romantic quests and daring adventures and creating characters that always triumph against the villain, and find their soul mate in the process.

I'm usually pretty good at dealing with change. I'm often the instigator of change because change can be a good thing, right? Right. Until it isn't.

I'm not sure what the trigger was but it's been more than a decade since people started asking me if I hated getting old. Old? What was that? I was fine. I could do anything I wanted to, whenever I wanted to. I have a low boredom threshold, so I do a lot of different things at different times. At various times, my physical activities have included jazz ballet, kayaking, bushwalking, horseriding, gym memberships, personal trainers, aqua aerobics, swimming, snorkeling, canooing, jogging, walking, ballroom dancing, zumba, latin dancing, ice skating, pilates, and probably a few things I've forgotten because I only did them once before losing interest or deciding it wasn't for me.

Then, about three years ago, my horse stumbled while picking his way down a hill. Neither of us fell, but my neck got such a jolt that I couldn't move for three months. I still have a problem with a couple of bulging discs.

And that's all it took to suddenly be old. I can't go riding anymore, I can't ride a roller coaster or go on any theme-park rides, not even the tame ones like the dodgems. I can't go skydiving - not that I'd ever jump out of a perfectly good plane, but the restriction is there.

Since then my mobility has slowly decreased until even basic things seem to cause injury. Walking the dogs a few months ago resulted in a tear in my medial meniscus. I can't climb and I can't dance. I can't do anything that requires me to put lateral pressure on my knee, which means there's not much I can do apart from walk in a straight line on even ground. I can't walk longer than an hour - and I have to have my knee strapped to go that far.

The other day, I was feeling pretty good. Two days pain-free. So I thought, great, I can stretch this walk out, increase the pace, add in a few jogged sections (seriously, it was only a dozen or so steps and very slow). You know--have fun. I kept it short because I didn't want to re-injure myself. Too bad I can't get it through my head that I can't do that sort of thing anymore because I've just spent the last three days hobbling around. At least today I managed to walk up and down steps without having to use the railing to drag myself up.

The thing is, I'm not old. Average life expectancy is still decades away. The fact my body is beginning to disagree with me is irrelevant. I've decided to do something about it, whatever I need to do to be able to move again. So next week I'm having surgery. I'm told at one end of the spectrum that I'll be walking the same day and dancing again within six weeks. The other end of the spectrum says I won't be moving freely for at least three weeks and I can kiss dancing good-bye forever. I hope they're wrong. I love dancing.

The only thing I can be sure of is that there are more changes ahead of me. I'm hoping most of them will be the fun kind although I know some of them won't be fun at all.

The Planet Whisperer has hit the Coming Soon page at Dreamspinner Press. It's slated for release on 4 December and is now available for pre-order. This has got to be one of the most exciting parts of having a story published.

What do you think of the cover? I think it's one of the best I've had. I love the sharp edges juxtaposed with the curves of both the planet and the body. The image could be taken directly from the book. The artist Aaron Anderson did a great job.

The Planet Whisperer is the first Science Fiction story I've had published, which makes it even more exciting. I love writing Science Fiction. It's incredibly challenging because you don't just have the usual plotting and character issues to deal with, but you have to create an entirely new world and make sure it all pulls together believably. Because it's set so far in the future, there are a lot of things that aren't anything like contemporary society, but you still have to have some things the same so that the ready feels comfortable enough to understand what's happening. It's a delicate balancing act. I hope I've got it right in The Planet Whisperer. I'll let you be the judge.

Here's the blurb and an excerpt for you.

Chapter One

Jonah

WHERE THE hell was Wes? He should be there, waiting with Jonah. Why did the captain need this meeting at all? The next three contracts were signed weeks ago. They were the last ones. Jonah paced four steps to the left, then turned and paced four steps back. Abandoning his pockets he ran his hands through his hair, then clenched them together. He leaned against the opposite wall and darted a look down both ends of the hallway while he tapped the toe of his shoe against the floor. Wes had promised. Three more planets and they’d find somewhere quiet, a nice planet where they could settle down and grow a small garden of their own.

Wes had laughed when Jonah first mentioned that was what he wanted to do. It had taken four contracts before he realized Jonah was serious. After traveling for fifteen years and terraforming planets to make them habitable, Jonah wanted something of his own. He wanted to see the same stars every night and feel a breeze on his face that wasn’t from an air recycler.

He looked down the hall again. Still no Wes. Perhaps he was already inside, waiting for Jonah to get his tardy ass into gear and join him. Jonah pressed the request button on the captain’s door, then shoved his hands into his pockets, stepped back, and checked the empty hall. He stepped forward to buzz again just as the door opened.

“Ah, Starovski. There you are. Good, good. Come on in, then.” Captain White was a round, blustery man with a jovial glint in his eyes like he’d been born under a circus star. Jonah double-checked everything the captain said, just as he’d done with the circus masters he’d known in his childhood.

This morning White’s eyes were flat, his jaw tense. He strode around his desk and sat, shuffled some papers to the side, clasped his hands, then unclasped them, and tapped the papers with his fingertips.

Jonah settled into his usual position against the wall just inside the door and waited for Wes. That was probably why the captain seemed so nervous. Wes said no one felt comfortable with Jonah because he was a sullen bastard, but Jonah thought it was probably because everyone thought he could do to them what he did to planets: age them with a word.

Wes had started the rumor when they’d first started this business, saying it made Jonah more mysterious and alluring. Jonah had never worked out what was supposed to be alluring about a man who could supposedly turn a person into a wrinkled prune with the wave of his hand and a grumbling phrase of nonsense, but the contracts had poured in after that, so he supposed Wes knew what he was talking about. It meant no one initiated conversations with Jonah, though, and he was left with just Wes for company.

“Well, sit down, Starovski.” The captain’s hands had stopped moving and now rested loosely clasped on the desk.

“I’d rather wait for Wes,” said Jonah. His voice came out in his usual tenor, which was better than the ruined rasp it became when they started a new contract.

“Farragher won’t be coming.” The captain sounded as confused as Jonah felt. “He left in his shuttle last night.”

Wes left? He won’t be coming? “What shuttle?” Jonah’s smooth tenor was gone. He stumbled forward and dropped into a seat. “He left?” Jonah gripped the edges of his seat, sure the small piece of furniture was the only thing preventing him from floating away through the walls of the frigate Keiki and off into the dead dark of space. His breath came to him in a vacuum. “When will he be coming back?” The words left him in a strangled whisper, but even as he heard them, saw them hovering in an oily mist in the air, he heard the answer whispering in the dark like a lover.

“He’s not coming back.”

Through the fog Jonah heard a request-click at the door and White call, “Come!” The door opened behind him, and the air billowed and swirled as someone came in, but Jonah didn’t turn to see who it was. It wasn’t Wes. Wes was gone, and Jonah was still here. On his own. He lowered his head and stared at his hands clasped around the edges of his seat. His fingers were going numb from the grip. He wished the ache in his chest would go numb too. Finally he was able to draw breath and looked back at the captain.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “We still have three more contracts.”

“That’s right, and as you requested last week, they’ve been paid in advance.”

Jonah gasped in the thick silence that followed. “I didn’t request—” Jonah stopped and drew breath. Wes always acted for Jonah. “Contracts are always paid on completion.” That was one factor that had been nonnegotiable from the beginning. His cheeks grew cool even as a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.

“My situation?” When White did nothing more than glare at Jonah, Jonah changed tack. “I didn’t think the ship had the budget to—” Jonah bit his lip to stop talking. He didn’t need to tell the captain how things usually worked. The fact that White had paid from his own budget probably explained the scowl on his face. It would put a lot of pressure on operations for the duration of those contracts.

After another long pause, Jonah said quietly, “I need to go back to my suite.” His knuckles glowed white from his tight grip on his chair. Deliberately, one finger at a time, he lifted his hands away and looked back at the captain.

“I need to discuss with you the conditions of the contract, Mr. Starovski. Your responsibilities remain the same, and now that Mr. Farragher is no longer here, you’re also responsible for anything he’s agreed to. Surely whatever you need to do—”

“I need access to the net.”

The hardness in White’s gaze softened as he tapped the screen of his tablet a few times, then slipped it across the desk. “Enter your codes in there, Mr. Starovski.”

Jonah reached a trembling hand to drag the tablet toward him. His heart beat frantically as he typed. If he was wrong about this, even if Wes didn’t come back, everything would be okay. Please be wrong.

Silence clung to the air in worried vapor, punctuated by the tap-tap of Jonah’s fingers on the screen as he accessed his bank accounts. The screen morphed into a spreadsheet that showed regular deposits and a growing balance, until the last one. The zero at the end of the column of numbers seemed to pulse with Jonah’s harsh breathing. He cleared the screen and tapped frantically until another account came up on the screen. It told a similar story.

Those were only their working accounts. There were other accounts that Wes had set up for their future. Jonah opened screen after screen, the tapping, sharper and louder with each screen, punctuating the dense waiting in White’s office as he accessed the accounts. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Fuck. He wouldn’t believe it. Wes wouldn’t have cleaned him out. He wouldn’t have taken it all and left Jonah with nothing and no one except contracts to finish that he wasn’t even going to be paid for. Because they had already been paid for them. Black spots danced in front of the screen, and Jonah realized he’d been holding his breath. He sucked in air, harsh and acrid in his throat. It burned his eyes, but he blinked the sting away.

He opened the last account. It was the one he’d opened when Wes had first shown him how to do it. One just for him, after so long of not being able to have anything for himself. It held the same amount he’d had when he was in the brothel. Nothing.

He stared at the zeroes while he got his breathing under control. As his heart rate slowed, his anger grew. He’d worked with Wes for fifteen years, building a life that would keep him away from Tolifax, the rat-infested planet he was born on. They’d been building a partnership.

“When will Wes be back?” he asked. He would be back. Jonah knew it. White was wrong before. He had to be. Jonah just had to ask the question in the right way.

“I don’t think he will be, Mr. Starovski. He surrendered his ship pass when he left.”

The zeroes blurred in front of him. Wes wasn’t coming back. This wasn’t some quick jaunt Wes took for fun. Jonah knew that too. Wes never went anywhere without weeks of planning.

He reached out to close the screen but paused. Wes knew the passwords to all the accounts, including this one. There was nothing left, but these were the only accounts he had. When he eventually made some money of his own, he couldn’t risk Wes taking that too. He was too old to go back. No one wanted a thirty-two-year-old trick.

So, new password. Something Wes would never think of. He looked at the captain. No, too obvious. The other one. The one who came in late. He turned suddenly to the man standing at the door. His brown eyes widened when Jonah looked at him, as if he was surprised Jonah even knew he was there.

“What’s your name?”

“Lieutenant Davis.”

Davis. Jonah replaced a couple of letters with numbers and symbols. No way would Wes think of that for his password. He changed the passwords on all the accounts: if Wes deposited money in them, he wouldn’t be able to take it out again. Jonah would have grinned if his stomach wasn’t still churning. For the first time, he was glad that Wes had insisted they each have total control of all the accounts. It had allowed Wes to drain the accounts, but it also meant Jonah could make changes without his permission. After he’d changed the passwords, he removed Wes’s authority from them too, so he couldn’t request access. He’d still be able to deposit, but wouldn’t be able to do anything else. Once everything was changed, he pushed the tablet away, sat back, and stared at his hands twisting in his lap.

“You can make a complaint, you know. The matter can be investigated, and a tribunal will determine how much of the money was yours. You could press charges,” said White.

Wes was gone and had taken all their money. A tribunal deciding half the money was Jonah’s wasn’t going to change that. “No,” he said. Jonah’s dream of finding a quiet place to live and grow things was shattered. Somewhere deep down inside, his broken heart was screaming and flailing against what he knew he had to do, but there was no choice. Jonah had to keep going. He had to find a way to survive that wouldn’t take him back to his past. There was only one thing he knew how to do. He looked up at the captain. “Are there more planets to be terraformed?”

“There might be one or two left in this galaxy, but they haven’t undergone the stringent testing for native life-forms,” said White. “I don’t have jurisdiction in other galaxies. You’d have to submit applications directly to other terraforming expeditions.”

Jonah cringed at the pity he heard in the captain’s voice. After another lengthy silence, he sighed and stood. “Thank you, Captain. Please let me know as soon as we’re in orbit around the next planet.” He shifted on his feet and swallowed audibly. He’d never worked alone before and wasn’t sure what would happen if he did now. Sometimes the power built so strong he felt like his body would explode and paint the room with everything he was, as well as his breakfast. If it got really bad, he’d send out magnetic impulses that would interfere with the ship’s operations, or worse, harm the crew. He wasn’t going to allow his power to do that again. The screams still echoed in his dreams. He’d have to have someone there to assist him, but he wasn’t going to have someone ordered to do it. He still had nightmares of the time Wes forced a rent boy to help him release the energy. “I’ll also need a volunteer from your crew to assist me during that time.”

The captain stood and reached across his desk to shake Jonah’s hand. “Of course, Mr. Starovski. Lieutenant Davis will be assisting you for this contract.” He nodded at the man at the door.

“Captain, I asked for a volunteer.”

The captain smiled then looked pointedly to the officer who’d joined them. Jonah looked toward the brown-haired man who stood silently behind him.

“I’m happy to help any way I can, Mr. Starovski,” he said. His words were confident and the voice pleasant, but Jonah could feel the trepidation pulsing from him in staccato bursts. His defenses were high, too, and Jonah knew if he pushed, he’d achieve nothing more than a belligerent refusal to back down. If the lieutenant wanted him to believe he was volunteering, Jonah had to accept it.

Jonah’s ability to read other people and the intensity with which he approached everything scared people. Wes always told him to keep his mouth shut because he just made a fool of himself when he opened it. His breath clogged in his throat as he thought of Wes gone and the empty bank accounts, but he pushed it away. He’d think about that later. He clamped his lips tightly and nodded.

“If there’s nothing else, Captain?”

White shook his head.

“I’ll await your advice on achieving orbit.” Jonah looked at the lieutenant before leaving the captain’s office. He was halfway down the corridor to the lifts that would take him back to his suite when the lieutenant caught up with him.

“Starovski. Wait up.”

Jonah paused and waited, keeping his head down. His skin was stretched tight, abrading the nerve endings. Pain pricked through him and burned his eyes. He had to get back to his suite before he broke down completely, but the lieutenant was assigned to him and was going to be working with him for the next month, unless Wes came back. Wes wasn’t coming back. Jonah had to learn how to work with Davis. He clenched his hands in his pockets and turned to face the younger man.

“I wanted to ask you exactly what my duties will be so I can prepare.”

Davis felt more resigned now, but Jonah could still feel a thread of anger in him. It wasn’t directed at Jonah, though, and he didn’t think it was toward the captain either. “There’s nothing for you to prepare for. I’ll do my job, then explain what’s happening on the planet, and you’ll write a report to submit to your captain. That will happen every morning.”

“Is the shuttle already booked for tomorrow? What time will we be undocking?”

Jonah lifted his head to stare right into Davis’s eyes, allowing some of his power to bleed through. There was no way the lieutenant would miss the color or the way his eyes glowed with the power swirling inside. Davis took a step back but then squared his shoulders and stared back. Other crew members wouldn’t meet Jonah’s gaze or stay near him once they’d seen his eyes. Perhaps this one was the right choice for the captain to make, after all.

“We won’t be going to the planet. All I need is visual contact. I can do everything I need to do from orbit.” Jonah continued walking, stretching out his stride so the lieutenant would leave him alone, but Davis tripped along beside him, curiosity hovering around him like a heat haze.

“There must be more than that if you need me there full-time. If it’s just a debrief and a report, I can do that in an hour at the end of the day.”

“You’ll be my liaison. While I’m working I won’t have contact with anyone else. It’s too distracting.” Jonah paused. “There are also some other things you need to do to finish the process. Physical things.”

Marcus’s mind spun. What sort of touching does he want? His gaze skittered around the walls and floor, and he shifted slightly on his feet. That wouldn’t be the case, and no way was he going to raise that possibility. He had plans for his career, and a sexual harassment suit from the preeminent terraformer wasn’t one of them. Probably it was just a massage on his shoulders or something.

Jonah nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“And if I don’t?”

“The process doesn’t work. Reversal of the terraforming process begins almost immediately if I don’t release the energy back to the planet. The release stabilizes the rate of spin and maintains the chemical reactions that lead to atmosphere generation. I’ve tried to… do it myself, but it doesn’t work that way.”

Marcus nodded. It was almost impossible to massage kinks out of your shoulders and back by yourself. “Sure. No problem,” he said. He knew what it was like to be hunched over equipment for the entire day.

“You should consider this carefully, Lieutenant,” said Jonah. “If you decide not to go ahead, let me know tonight so I can ask the captain to find someone else for me.”

By that time they’d reached the door to Jonah’s suite. He activated the entry and stepped inside, then turned and blocked the doorway, so Marcus couldn’t follow him in. He didn’t leave, though. He stood in the middle of the corridor, confused.

“What?” Jonah said.

“It doesn’t seem like I’ll have anything to do while you’re working.”

“What do you normally do?”

A wry smile tugged at his lips. “The captain never said I was relieved of my other duties, did he?” he asked with a shake of his head. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Starovski. I’d better get things set in place so I can work from your suite.” He tapped two fingers against his forehead in a casual salute, then walked away.